A Renegade's Redemption
by xConcr3t3 Jungl3 5urf3r
Summary: A story of aching for revenge but finding redemption that you can really sink your teeth into. This is completely AU starting with Connor's return on Angel and post season 6 finale of Buffy.
1. Show Me Your Teeth

**Though I loved the idea of the character Connor and the father son dynamic,  
>I think that thte storyline could have been taken in a completely different direction.<br>(Plus I'm not a fan of the actor so I replaced him with Paul Wesley)  
>Also I don't agree with the math that vampire + vampire= superhuman?<br>SO I adapted his character by making him a new breed of vampire instead of the usual in the Buffyverse.  
>His abilities are as follows: Minor face morphing (face like that of the vampires on vampire diaries) Super Strength, Super Speed, Super Sense, Super Agility, Healing Factor, (major)Walk in the sunlight.<br>This is completely AU post arrival on Angel and season 7 final of Buffy.**

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><p>XxX<p>

The Redemption of a Renegade  
>by<br>xConcr3t3 Jungl3 5urf3r

XxX

**-Chapter One-  
><strong>**A Story You Can Sink Your Teeth Into**

Falling a thousand feet per second, Connor begins his descention. Wind whooshes all around him as images blure into lines and lines into a blinding white light as he tears through the very fabric of reality. Muscular limbs flail against the perpetual falling feeling in his gut, attempting to grab at the air and stop the nausiating effect. The prayer for this particular feeling to quit crosses his mind mere seconds before being answered by the unforgiving surface that is the lobby floor of Angel Investigations- more accurately smack dab in the middle of the pentagram.

The heap of a teenager lies with his face burried in an extended arm- the only part of his anatomy camoflauged from the world around him. Raggy, shaky breaths are inhaled and exhaled at a rate that makes it seem that the oxygen rich is poisonous to his lungs. With what little strength the muscular arms can muster he lifts himself up to rest on his forearms and his head follows turning slightly to see the rest of the room's inhabitants.

The first thing the beautiful, feisty brunette that is Cordelia Chase notices is blue eyes that sparkle like the ocean when the sun hits it quickly followed by the facial feature that bear a striking resemblance to that of a finely carved Michelangelo statue: classical straight nose, high cheekbones, incredibly strong square jaw, and perfect, sensuous lips and mouth. Even with his chocolate mane matted to his forehead and smudges of dirt on his face, the stranger was handsome; devilishly so. In fact, the beautiful blue-eyed boy has the classic romance novel look; dreamy and mystical in appearance and he has a strong, compelling aura.

Fred: Holy Hottie!

Eyes momentarliy shift to the usually quiet and reserved brunette voicing the thoughts that plauged Cordelia's mind before shifting back go the intruder known as the Destroyer. Taking a sword from Cordelia's grasp, Angel took lead not ready to have another threat thrown into the world due to his act of desperation. Chocolate brown eyes bore into the downed destroyer realizing that his return from hell bore a striking similarity to this situation.

If the destroyer was half as bad as hell's inhabitants, he wouldn't let his friends near it. The person was a threat. The man that always has his back, Charles Gunn, stands a little back and to the right ready to take affirmative action and when those brown eyes flicker to his left, he expects to see the ax weilding Groo on his side but Angel finds his left flank exposed.

Instead, Groo is being pulled in by his heartstrings- the bumbling fool's possibly leathal mistake. The brilliantly, freakish blue eyes of the halfbreed practically carry a conversation with the desperately frightened ones of the vampire version two-point-oh that scream "_don't let the mean men hurt me". _That tears it. The spikey haired halfbreed throws himself between the two parties turning his back on Connor

Groo: Stop! Don't you see he's defenseless?

Before they can blink, let alone form rebuttals, the Destroyer is behind Groo with his massive right hand grabbing the halfbreed's shoulder and spins him around to face his fate. Immediately after he sees the whites of his eyes, the vampire's long fingers grab a handful of Groo's hair and cocks his head to the side to get a clear target.

Razor sharp teeth stab into his neck-the tender flesh delectable- and liquid spills into his mouth like a tidal wave. Suctioning to the holes, hungry lips retract blood and gallons seem to spill over his face and onto his exposed flesh. By the time, the halfbreed's team can come to his aid, the predator breaks the hold his clenched jaw has on the man and throws the halfbreed into Gunn taking them both out of comission.

As Angel moves to attack the younger vampire _vamp speeds_ to the other end of the room. Hands extend up in the universal gesture for stop and for reasons he can't understand Angel does.

Angel: Who are you? What do you want?

The words were spat with such a venomous tone that the teenager took a great deal of satisfaction. Cold cobalt drowned the older vamp in mock hurt and an underlining current of hatred. Slowly the teen's massive hand moves over the organ that had been out of commission for some time now. He speaks in a chrisp, clear monotone but spits out the last word like an insult.

Connor: Don't tell me you've already forgotten me _father_.

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><p><strong>So there you have it the first exciting installment of Someone to A Renegade's Redemption (RR).<br>Any question, comments, concerns, praises to be sung?  
><strong>_**LET ME KNOW WHAT SHIPS YOU WANT TO SEE!**_**  
>Add fuel to the fire and help inspire…<br>Review!**


	2. Hate is Safer than Love

**Due to the lack of review and views, I'm debating on scarping the story which would be a shame.  
>To save this story, you know what to do… Review.<br>And while you're reviewing let me know what ships you want? Cangle? Bangle? Spuffy?**

XxX

The Redemption of a Renegade  
>by<br>xConcr3t3 Jungl3 5urf3r

XxX

**-Chapter Two-  
><strong>**Hate is safer than love**

The choclatey goodness that is Angel's eyes swirl with a whirlpool of undefined emotions as realization struck. Connor, his son that should be four months old stood before him as a sixteen year old renegade. It wasn't possible… but they face the impossible everyday.

Connor.

The more he repeats his son's name, the lineage becomes all the more apparent. He's the spitting image of his father- from his choclate locks to his square, masculine jaw line. The striking resemblence is only foiled by those electric blue eyes that sparkle with intensity and contradictively darkened with bloodlust. Those are a hundred percent Darla well that and the blood drenched facial features. His tongue runs smoothly across his bloody teeth from fang to fang enjoying everydrop.

Angel: My God. It's you… Connor.

Every line of his body went rigid with rage and eyes flittered with revulsion. (the blood soaked assailant revulsed at that but not ripping into a human body. There had to be a joke in their somewhere) He studies the man before him taking in the happiness tainting the vampire's features and any restraint he'd possessed went out the window. Wiping that stupid grin off Angel's face was the teen's number one priority.

Faster than lightning strikes, straping legs thensed and muscles projected him forward Rage commmanded heart and pumped through his bloodstream into his fists and his fists into his father's fac.e. Before he could process the punch his legs are swept from beath him by the same muscular legs that propelled him just moments before and a hand gripped his shirt to drive him harder into the marble.

Connor: I'm going to be the death of you.

Crimson liquid gathers into a small trickle over narrowed pallets of flesh as he watches his son hop to his feet and those murderous eyes flashing back to his other victim and admire his work.

Connor: You might wanna put some pressure on that.

With those words of mocking wisdom, Connor head to the large double-doors and forces the father out of his disebelieving stupor to realize what walking out the door meant. In horror he watches as his son push on the doors and begins his march down to death row. Sauntering forward, he moves eyes focused on the strange world ahead as his father leaps up off the ground.

Without hesitation the parent races out into the son after his son, more willing to die than lose his son again. Once out in the courtyard flesh immediately sizzled and brown irises search madly for Connor. (You'd think it'd be easier to find a naked teenager) Finally his eyes catch the sight of the teenager smirking sinisterly before dissappearing.

Long slender fingers wrap around his muscular bicep and pulls in the opposite direction but he doesn't budge. The situattion cripples him as his son's threat plays in his head.

Cordealia: Angel, c'mon. You can't help him if you're a pile of ash.

For a moment, the man stands his ground contemplating her words. She's right. He knows it and he hates it. Reluctantly, he lifts his feet and lets the petite brunette drag him back into the building looking over his shoulder hoping to get another glance at the prodigal son.

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><p>Buffy Summers thrashes about madly in her sleep as images flash rapidly in her horror plauged mind.<p>

_Blood splatters acossed a stained glass window as the sihlouette of a vampire feeds.  
>A small wooden church erupting in an expanse of flames.<br>Corpse upon corpse stacked up in a wooded area.  
>Piercing blue eyes reflecting the image of Angel.<br>An extended arm holding a stake beginning it's descent. _

A flush of silky blonde hairs flings up in a raging puff from the speed of shooting upwards. Her chest heaves up and down madly and her hand moves atop her heart and her head inturprets the prophecitic dream- more accurately described as nightmare. As her pulse pounds in her ears, thoughts are casted aside and she flings pack the cover.

_Angel needs her._


	3. Evacuate the Dancefloor

XxX

The Redemption of a Renegade  
>by<br>xConcr3t3 Jungl3 5urf3r

XxX

**-Chapter Three-  
><strong>**Evacuate the Dancefloor**

Adrenaline pours into the atmosphere from bottles of Grey Goose and Captain Morgan as the house band played. Addictive melodies litt the dark plaza ablaze; every lyric synced perfect to the neon lights flashing down on the dancefloor from above the dance floor. On it, bodies touched bodies, men and women grinding . Heat radiated through the dancing bodies, releasing into the atmosphere.

Curios eyes roam over the scene playing out beofre his eyes and hands slip into the pockets of his Diesel Lade leather jacket he'd "borrowed" from his lunch. Lunch. Feeling the growling of his stomach, he's reminded by the reason he's even at the nightclub. He's freakin' straving.

His hunt doesn't last very long. In fact, he doesn't have to find his dinner; dinner found him. She's a pretty little thing with a peaches and cream complexion and fiery red hair that matches the fire in her very soul. She wore a black lace dress that appeared sheer beneath the lights of the club, thus tanned flesh was exposed to the public through her dress and little was left to the imagination. Needless to say, she looks absolutely deliousious to hungry eyes.

Girl: Hey handsome, wanna dance?

There's no hesitation in his eyes as he cooly nods, pulling his hand out of his pocket and grabbing hers; he was afterall, a teenage boy who hadn't felt the touch of a woman his entire existence. He lets her lead him out to the dancefloor flashing that million dollar grin that made her ask him to dance in the first place.

The hypnotic way she sways draws him in like a moth to the flame. His heart beats out of his chest, or well it would if he had a heartbreat. Skulking for his prey and an observant eye, supplies him with an aresonal of dance moves or at least enough to spin her around roughly and pull her into a kiss- his first kiss. The surprise attack takes the redhead by surprise but she returns the kiss tenfold. When they come up for air, her eyes flash across the dancefloor and then immediately back to him.

Girl: Let's get out of here.

Her voice is gritty and seductive, the kind you don't say no to and besides no was the farthest thing from his mind. Tiny hands flatten over his chest waiting impatiently for his response.

Connor: After you, love.

His electric blue eyes darken with desire and lust as she grabs the end of the tie that hung loosely from his neck twiriling it in her fingers before leading him across the dancefloor and out the back exit. Living in that hellaciously violent, demonic demnsion that is Quor'Toth, taught the teenager to be aware of his surroundings. That's why he realizes the group of men following quickly behind, weaving through the crowd with eyes on him. That's why he realizes his dinner might just be getting upgraded to a full blown feast.

The second they're outside the door, he pulls her into him and backs her up to the wall across from the door putting his finger over her mouth to silence her. The warrior watches the men barge through the door, obviously vengeful spirts wanting his head on a silver platter.

Gang member 1: Boy you best be getting your hands off my woman before I pop a cap in yo' ass.  
>Girl: I'm not your girl. Just please leave me alone!<p>

The desperation in her voice is mixed with a fear so great that Connor could parctically taste it. It' then that he notices the finger shaped bruise on her arm and something within him emerges that he's not felt for a long time… protective?

Connor: You heard her. Scram.

In response the man pulls out a gun and he and his comrades are ready to teach the boy a lesson for speaking out of turn. BIG MISTAKE. Connor speeds forward, massive hands latch onto the gun totating arm, and he snaps it before anyone could blink. Blue eyes return to the redhead- the veins under his eyes buldging and fangs showing.

Connor: RUN!

After shaking off the shock, the redhead doesn't need to be told twice. Long legs carry her away as her stillettos click clack across the ground in the leaver's anthem. Then Connor continues his assault, driving his hand through the man's chest and pulling out his heart without batting a lash. Throwing it up and down in his hand while letting the body fall, Connor snickers.

Connor: Who wants to die next?

The events that transpire after this moment in time will for ever live in infamy branded the title of a blood bath.

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><p>After scowering the city, searching high and low in a fruiteless persuit, Angel decided to check in on Cordealia at the hospital. When turning the corner to enter the waiting room, Angel sets his sights on the brunette talking to the doctor on the verge of tears. Fearing the worst, he couldn't contain himself.<p>

Angel: Cordy?

His voice is questioning, pleading even. He doesn't want to know that his boy, his sweet prince, would do such a horrible thing to the woman that loved him as if he were her own. Connor couldn't do that.

Cordelia: Groo's alive… Critical but alive.

A sigh of relief passes the vampire's lips as he closes the gap between him and the woman he loves. Immediately strong arms envelope her small frame in a warm embrace realizing how perfectly she fit into him or the intensity of her return of the hug. It would have been beautiful if the situation wasn't so terribly tragic. He holds her in his arms, standing frozen in time until he hears her soft rasp of a voice .

Cordelia: Please tell me you found him.

Sad eyes search the vampire for some form of emotion to which he had none to give. He sincerely appeared broken and souless like she may have been looking at his evil alterego.

Angel: The trail went cold.

He relinquishes his hold on the seer and shifts away from her taking a few steps before his hands join on the back of his head and he stares off into the city feeling helpless. For months he'd longed for his baby boy to return at any costs. Their reunion should have been a joyus affair… not this misery. Connor was never supposed to become this.

He was a _human_.  
>A human with a <em>soul<em>.  
>Now… now he is something entirely different.<p>

Angel: God, what the hell happened to my son?

Anger forces his fist down the nearest object which happened to be a chair nearly splitting it in to. Tears burn the corners of dark lashes as he slips down the wall onto the floor. Seconds later she's down by his side desperately clinging to that last bit of optimism the usually bubbly brunette carries.

Cordelia: He took after his mother a little too much.

It was an attempt at a joke to get him to smile. A failed one. Eyes narrow and his eybrow cocks in disbelief.

Angel: How can you joke about this?

Swallowing the cotton textures gathering on her tongue, she rests her head on his shoulder. The familiar gesture lulling the confession out of her.

Cordelia: Because it's the only thing holding me together right now.

Angel loops a comforting arm around her and rests his head attop hers. The last time they slipped into this comforting embrace, was win Cordelia returned to find Connor gone. It's almost like losing his him all over again. But this time is different. This time he can at least get a piece of Connor back.

Angel: We'll get our boy back, Cordy. I won't rest til we do.

_Their_ boy. He says it so naturally as if she were his mother. She wasn't. Isn't. But that doesn't mean she can't be his mom. There's no denying the way her eyes sparkled with love everytime she held him or said his name- no forgetting the way she lit up when Connor was in the room. She was the most maternal thing the boy knew. Connor was her boy too and she didn't bother correcting Angel this time. She just nods slowly in agreement and sits there in his embrace 'til she falls asleep like that.

_Ring… Ring… Ring…_

Slipping his phone from his pocket, the vampire reads the name on the caller ID and his eyes open impossibly wide. Buffy? What could she possibly want?

Angel: Hello?  
>Buffy: I think just watched you die.<p>

xXx

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